


Feeling Used But I'm Still Missing You

by blipblorpsnork



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Lyric fic, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Post canon, Song fic, i hate u i love u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 21:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blipblorpsnork/pseuds/blipblorpsnork
Summary: He hated every moment of it. Every single new second was one more second he couldn’t bear to think of it. These moments weren’t tender. But they held a sort of ashes-after-the-fire warmth to them. One gust of wind and it could all go up in flames once more.





	Feeling Used But I'm Still Missing You

**Author's Note:**

> _Feeling used, but I’m_  
Still missing you—

By the time he got back to his dingy apartment in the middle of the slums, Jou always felt worse for wear. He felt dirty far beyond what a shower could clean, fatigued beyond what rest could salvage. Every night he went to see Kaiba, he came home feeling like a disgusting gym sock forgotten at the bottom of a pile of equally disgusting laundry.

And every night, as he sat in his shower scrubbing his skin raw with a ratty washcloth that needed replacing over a year ago, he was already beginning to feel the longing pangs of wanting to go back. There was something in the poison of his voice that was intoxicating, addictive. Something about the sharp tang of his cologne and the way it clung to Jou’s skin. There was something there, something more.

He hated every moment of it. Every single new second was one more second he couldn’t bear to think of it. Kaiba treated him like less than dog shit on a day to day basis. He called him names, belittled him. He made it brutally apparent that he could do better, had done better, was doing better than Jou. That Jou was a time waster; a game he could play in his off time, idling around until he was bored and setting down until the next whimsy struck him.

Jou knew it was all true. He had seen it firsthand of course. On the news, in the tabloids. Everyone was obsessed with who Kaiba’s newest fling was, whether this person or that would catch his eye; typical celebrity drivel. Most people either blindly believed every single word or staunchly disregarded it as nothing more than shitty rags spinning shitty tales. Only Jou knew the truths from the lies, half of the time, because he would often see those truths lounging around Kaiba mansion in their smallclothes, flaunting what they had or didn’t while he scraped his meager belongings together to make a hasty and discreet getaway. None of them paid him enough mind to be of any threat to Kaiba’s reputation so he didn’t care at all that they’d seen him and he knew Jou wouldn’t ever admit to what they had together.

Besides, who would believe that Kaiba Seto, young CEO of a megacorporation, was sleeping with a two-time-runner-up mutt who couldn’t pay his own championship entry fees?

He was being used. Jou knew it as well as he knew his own name. He was being taken for a ride—several in fact, all in different directions, some far more pleasurable than others. One minute he meant nothing and the next minute there was only himself and Kaiba in the world. And then just as quickly he would be an annoyance, a hindrance, something for the man to wipe his boots on. The sex was hot and intense and calling it good would be a damn insult and un understatement but as soon as all the steam had evaporated and the temperatures had died down, it only ever went one of two ways.

The first was the most common. Kaiba would get up and get dressed and leave without another word. He wouldn’t so much as spare Jou a single look, having already gotten what he’d summoned the blonde for, and needing to move on to greener, more important pastures. These nights, days, mornings, evenings, they stung. They stung like a fresh slap across his ass, or his cheek, or the long, slender fingers tightening in his hair until it hurt. They stung like cold tears on hot, bruised cheeks, and like nursing a cut on an already bruised eye.

But those were the easy days.

The second was uncommon, but far from unheard of. The second ending to their forays would find the two of them in bed. Neither would look at one another, but they didn’t have to. Kaiba—no, Seto would be staring at the ceiling, a cigarette dangling over the bed in his slender fingers. His oceanic eyes would be a million miles away, thinking whatever thoughts were in his tired, twisted head. And Jou would be lying next to him, half curled into his side with his blonde head of hair resting in the crook of the CEO’s shoulder or his arm or his neck. These moments weren’t tender. But they held a sort of ashes-after-the-fire warmth to them. One gust of wind and it could all go up in flames once more. But that very same gust of wind could send them scattering to the ether ever more.

Those nights always saw Jou making the first move to leave. They would stay like that for hours, never speaking, hardly ever moving. Shifting to make room for a limb losing blood flow or a crick in the hip. Nestling further into one another’s embrace. And after a while, once he’d smoked his fill and thought whatever was in his nebulous, unreadable mind, Seto would drift into a restful sleep—some of the only restful sleep he ever got, if one was to believe what his diligent younger brother had told Jou on a private occasion in the past. And once he was asleep and Jou knew his movement wouldn’t disturb the taller man’s slumber, he would slide off the bed and into his meager clothing and out the door, thence out of the man’s life until their next meeting.

Those were the nights that he came home, needing to scrub away the memories of almost-tender touches under the hottest water he could afford to use. Those were the nights that left him feeling most conflicted, feeling used and abused and beaten and broken and wanting more than ever before. Those nights hurt more than his body. His heart ached and his soul cried out until he was past tears, past feeling sad.

Those nights made him emptier than ever, and the only fix was to fill himself, in every way he could, with Seto’s presence, and hope it wouldn’t be the death of him.


End file.
